Part 3The Appraisal Trap

Rachel was my college roommate.

She had been a high-powered divorce and family law attorney for eight years.

I laid all the evidence out on her desk.

The credit card statements.

The property records.

The joint account transfer logs.

The screenshots from the Van Cleef & Arpels app.

She reviewed the documents in silence for ten minutes.

Then, she looked up at me.

"The jewelry from your dowry—do you have an itemized inventory?"

"Yes."

"What about proof of purchase?"

"It's all in my mother's safe deposit box. Original receipts, certificates of authenticity, everything."

"Did your mother ever have it legally notarized as a gift?"

I paused, stunned for a second.

"She did."

It suddenly came rushing back to me.

My mother was an incredibly meticulous woman.

Before she got sick, she had a lawyer draft a notarized deed of gift—explicitly stating that these pieces of jewelry were gifted to me as my sole and separate property prior to marriage, completely exempt from any future marital or community property claims.

At the time, I thought she was being overly paranoid.

Now, I understood.

She saw much further down the road than I ever could.

Rachel nodded approvingly. "Do you have the notarized documents?"

"Yes. They are filed with the receipts."

"Then this just became very straightforward," Rachel said, her eyes sharp. "That jewelry is your premarital, separate property. You have the notarized deed, the receipts, and the certificates of authenticity. Mark took them without your consent and gave them to a third party. Under the law, this isn't 'mismanagement of marital assets.' This is grand larceny."

"Grand larceny?"

"Exactly." Rachel leaned forward. "The value exceeds half a million dollars. That's a massive felony. He’s looking at three to ten years in state prison."

I stared at her, processing the weight of it.

"I'm not calling the cops just yet."

Rachel raised an eyebrow.

"I need to confirm one thing first."

"What is it?"

"Whether the rest of the jewelry is still in the safe at home."

Rachel instantly understood.

"You think he swapped them out?"

I nodded.

"My mother left me twelve pieces in total. We know the four-piece Alhambra set is currently in that woman's possession. As for the other eight..."

I trailed off.

Rachel slid a business card across the desk.

"David Chen. Certified master gemologist and appraiser. Take whatever is left in your safe to him. He'll tell you if they're authentic."

I pocketed the card.

"One more thing," Rachel warned me. "When you go home tonight, act completely normal. Don't say a word. Don't ask any questions."

"I know."

"Make him believe you are completely oblivious."

"I know."

"Once we have all the evidence secured, we drop the hammer."

Drop the hammer.

Those words gave me a profound sense of grim satisfaction.